(Today is the first day of my life where I don't want to wake up... Not because I'm lazy, but because it's been over five years since I've been surrounded by so many people. To tell the truth, crowds make me uncomfortable. They give me a feeling of claustrophobia. In the forest, it was just the mutants, Hunt, and me. It was dangerous, yes, but at least there was room to breathe. But the city... the city is something else.)
The noise upon arriving at the city, at the Tolmas temple, the plaza filled with merchants, or dinner at the inn with that incessant noise of conversations and clinking dishes... All of this was exhausting to me.
(It's not that I don't like noise... The sound of my mother or father cooking, my father fixing some machine, my brother moving around the house... That kind of noise always comforted me. Knowing they were nearby made me feel calm. But this... this is different.)
Hunt probably thinks I sleep too much, especially today, but the truth is, if I have work to do, I'm the first one up. I only sleep that much when I have nothing else to do.
(The city isn't going anywhere... but I guess there's no point in lying here anymore.)
I sat up and checked the little note Hunt had left me. He'd gone off exploring... Well, at least he left me breakfast. I ate a bagel leisurely, letting the sweetness clear my mind a little. Then I hopped in the shower.
(I'm more nervous than I thought. I don't know what to do out there... But I can't stay locked up here all day either.)
Once ready, I left the subdimension. The change was immediate. The room was dark, and the strong smell of smoke permeated the air.
(I've gotten so used to the subdimension that this now seems strange to me... Before, I wouldn't even have noticed.)
With a final sigh, I headed downstairs to the inn. Upon descending, I ran into the waitress from last night and her two companions, as well as the owner. (According to the analysis, their names were Liria, Chloe, Sera, and Dores, respectively.)
Liria was the first to notice my presence when I went downstairs to the inn. She greeted me with a smile as she finished clearing a table.
—Liria— Good morning, Neo! Did you sleep well?
I paused for a moment.
●— How do you know my name?—
—Liria— I saw it in the guest book. The lady writes down the names of everyone who stays at the inn.
Not that it bothered me, but I didn't expect them to know my name so quickly.
●— Huh… I guess that makes sense. —
Liria looked at me curiously as she finished cleaning a nearby table.
—Liria— You smell good too, by the way.
●— Is that weird? —
—Liria— Well, apart from Hunt, yes. Almost everyone here smells of wood, smoke, or sweat, especially this time of year.
Before he could answer, two figures rushed up.
—Cloe— Hunt says you make soap! —
—Sera— And you smell good too! Like flowers, but subtly! —
Liria sighed and crossed her arms.
—Liria— Don't harass him…
Cloe and Sera stared at me expectantly.
—Cloe— Tell us how to make soap!
—Sera— Yes, yes! We use ash, but it never smells as good as yours.
Before I could answer, Dores, the innkeeper, intervened from the counter.
—Dores— Let him breathe, girls! Come on, Neo, do you want something to eat? —
I looked around. The inn was quiet, the kitchen not yet crowded.
●— Yes, if there's something ready. —
Dores pointed to a table where Liria, Cloe, and Sera were sitting when I came down the stairs.
—Dores— Take advantage of eating now that we don't know when we'll have meat again from... — (I didn't quite understand what kind of animal he said the meat was from, but it sounded like some kind of deer. The analysis told me, minor deer meat, group 1)
I didn't argue. I sat down with them, and soon they served me a hot meal.
— Dores — So, Neo… how do you make good soap? —
The three girls leaned forward, waiting for my answer.
●— It's simple, really. You just need animal fat and a strong alkali, like ash. But the important thing is the ratio and the temperature. If you mix it well and heat it until… —
I stopped when I saw that none of them were blinking.
●— …Well, in the end it solidifies and you have soap. —
—Cloe— That sounds amazing! —
—Sera— I want to try it! —
Dores nodded with her arms crossed.
—Dores— Well, if you teach us how to make soap, I assure you that you won't lack food here.
I smiled slightly and went back to eating. Before leaving, I promised her that one day I would make some soap with her. I went out into the city to look for the stores Hunt had told me about.
(It's not bad to start the day like this.)
…
In front of me, the sign of the magic shop.
(This is the place Hunt mentioned. If he recommended it, it must be worth it.)
Magical artifacts… If what you have here is truly magical engineering, this could change everything. Maybe I'll find something that expands our possibilities, something that breaks the limits of what we can do with the subdimension... or with the energy of this world.
Hunt, you son of a bitch... You didn't even make a damn map with the skill of a cartographer. It took me forever to find this place.
I let out a sigh and pushed the door.
( Well… let's see how impressive this magic shop is.)
The place was smaller than I expected. Shelves filled with wands of all sizes lined the walls. There were small, lightweight models. There were also huge, ornate canes.
Behind the counter, an elderly man looked up from his book.
(According to the analysis, this man's name is Ervin and his profession is former magic knight and second-hand salesman. Second-hand salesman?)
—Ervin— Welcome, young man. Are you looking for something in particular? —
●— I just came to look. — I approached the display case and examined a small wand. —— How does this one work? Does it have a mana battery or does it passively store energy?
Ervin blinked, surprised by the question. —
—Ervin— Hmm… it has a Magiston crystal core, of the highest quality. —
That Magiston only stored 10 mana points, compared to my mana points it's nothing.
●— But how much energy does it store? Are there daily usage limits?
—Ervin— It depends on the user…—
I frowned.
●— And these sticks? They're huge. What are they for? —
—Ervin— They amplify spells. The larger they are, the more powerful the channeler. —
●— Are there any studies that confirm that? —
The magician looked at me irritably.
— Ervin — Young man, this isn't an academy. I only sell magical artifacts of the highest quality, not fraudulent studies. —
(Fraudulent studies)
Before I could answer, something in a corner of the store caught my eye.
A pair of refined-looking glasses rested in a padded case.
●— What are those? —
—Ervin— The analysis lenses. They allow you to read the magical energy of objects and creatures. They're extremely accurate. —
I picked them up carefully. They were more intricate than the rest of the artifacts in the store.
(Good distribution of runes, but the carving is not uniform… They were done in a hurry and poorly.)
I didn't realize I said it out loud until I heard a loud click.
Ervin had slammed his book shut and was looking at me with a tense expression.
—Ervin— If you're not going to buy anything, get out. —
●—I'm just analyzing the quality of the products. —
—Ervin— Get out! Or I'll call the guard! —
I was silent for a moment.
●—I understand.— I put the glasses back in place and turned toward the door. —
●— Have a nice day. —
I walked out of the store calmly, letting the door close behind me.
==+-+=+-+==
The old wizard let out a heavy sigh and looked toward the door, still frowning.
(First that other guy, now this one… Who the hell are they? Why are they so interested in magic artifacts? Why are they asking such specific questions? Not even guild mages ask that much!)
He ran a hand over his face, trying to calm himself.
(And as if that weren't enough... Yesterday, in the temple of Tolmas, the statue turned into gold. Out of nowhere. A miracle, some said... but now I wonder if it was something else.)
He looked at the analysis lenses in the display case, still thinking about how that man (Neo) had detected the artifact's flaws just by looking at it.
(What if it wasn't a miracle? What if it was them?
The statue has been there for centuries without changing! And now these two show up and ask about every artifact in the shop… It can't be a coincidence.)
He swallowed.
(I don't know what they're after, but I don't want anything to do with them... And if the guard has any sense of caring about their lives, they shouldn't either. I feel too much power inside them.)
==+-+=+-+==
I walked out of the magic shop and let the door close behind me. (Well… that was disappointing.)
The sun was already high, indicating that the afternoon had progressed further than I had expected. I still had time before returning to the inn, so I decided to continue exploring.
Walking down the street, my eyes caught a glimpse of a small shop with a wooden sign carved with pictures of spoons, forks, and plates. (What could possibly be in a home improvement store in a world like this?)
I decided to approach. From the entrance, I saw shelves filled with clay and copper plates, cutlery, and pots. Some had hand-carved decorations, but the finish was crude compared to what one would see on Earth.
(The kitchen tools are functional, but primitive… The level of metallurgy in this city is quite low.)
I continued walking through the streets and soon came across something more worrying: a butcher shop. Or rather, a stall where meat was hanging out in the open, unprotected.
(This can't be hygienic... There's no refrigeration, no preservatives, not even a method of insulation. What if it rains? What about the insects? What about the bacteria? Don't they get sick from this? Thank goodness meat doesn't rot in the subdimension.)
Some pieces were lying on wooden planks, with blood running down the sides and mixing with the dust on the floor. I saw a butcher sharpening a knife without even wiping it after each cut.
(I'd better keep walking... I don't want to think about what I ate yesterday.)
As I walked deeper into the city, I noticed a pattern in the streets. They were narrow, with houses built close together, leaving barely enough room to walk.
A small channel of dirty water ran down the center of each street.
(This is… wastewater. They use it as an open sewer.)
The smell wasn't as strong, probably because the houses had small stone outlets that helped channel the waste, but it was still not an efficient solution.
After wandering aimlessly for a while, I realized I'd reached a less-traveled area. Near the city wall, a solid stone and wood building caught my eye.
A sign hung above the entrance showing a precisely carved anvil.
(A blacksmith? It looks like a workshop, but the sign is different from the ones I saw before… It's more detailed.)
Without thinking twice, I opened the door and walked in.
The heat hit me immediately. The air smelled of hot metal and coal, and the sound of the hammer echoed with each precise blow on the anvil. A large man, his arms marked by years of work, was striking a piece of incandescent metal with firm, calculated movements. I stood, watching in complete silence.
(It's hypnotic... Not just the process, but the precision of his movements. He knows exactly how and where to strike, how to twist the metal, how to control the temperature... He's a master of his art.)
Without realizing it, I had been watching for hours. Suddenly, the sound of the hammer stopped. The man placed the dagger on the workbench and slowly turned toward me.
—Durman— So, did you like the show, or what? —
It took me a second to respond. I'd become so absorbed in the process that I almost forgot I was in a conversation. I shook my head, regaining my composure.
—Durman — Before you keep looking at the sheet like you're a noob, who the hell are you? —
I looked up and looked back at him calmly.
●—Neo, and I'm an engineer. — I shook his hand like Teodoro taught us. —
(Durman narrowed his eyes when I said the word "engineer.")
—Durman— Hmph. Durman, head of the blacksmiths' guild. We shook hands. His grip was firm, hard as the metal he forged.
(Brute strength and experience… He's not just a blacksmith, he's a veteran of the trade.)
●— Yes, your technique is impressive, sir. —
(The blacksmith gave a short laugh and crossed his arms.)
—Durman— Heh, of course it is. Now tell me, what do you think of the dagger?
I approached the table and carefully picked it up. Its edge reflected the firelight precisely, the structure was well-balanced, the symmetry almost perfect. But as soon as my fingers ran over the blade, I noticed something… disappointing.
●— It's a shame. —
—Durman— What? —
●— It looks beautiful… but the material it's made of is a problem. You used soft steel, right? —
( Durman raised an eyebrow, somewhere between curious and annoyed.)
—Durman— Soft? This is pure steel! —
●— No, this is a steel with a composition almost like cementite. It's extremely hard, I admit, but also brittle. Your forging skills are excellent; you manage to maintain the balance between hardness and sharpness with precision… but this dagger won't last long. It will break easily. —
(Durman frowned, but I didn't stop.)
●— If instead of using this crappy steel, you used something like an L6 Bainite steel, the quality would increase dramatically. We're talking about a steel with approximately 0.7% carbon, which makes it a hypoeutectoid steel. This means that, depending on the heat treatment, you can take it right to the transition point between ferrite and pearlite formation, achieving an optimal balance between hardness and impact resistance.
Durman blinked, but I continued.
●— The important thing is that, if treated correctly, you can obtain a bainitic microstructure, which will make it extremely strong without losing flexibility. But be careful, cooling is key. If you cool it abruptly, you could induce internal stresses that would cause cracks. The ideal approach would be isothermal cooling in a salt bath or in a suitable thermal control medium to avoid the uncontrolled formation of martensite, which could lead to brittleness in the structure.
Durman stared at me, his arms crossed, a vein throbbing in his temple.
—Durman— …What the fuck did you say? —
Durman stared at me, crossing his arms over his chest.
—Durman— Haver, lad. Much talk, but I want proof. If my dagger is as fragile as you say, prove it to me. —
I raised an eyebrow and took the dagger by the tip with my fingers.
Without a second thought, I raised my hand and slammed it hard against the cobblestone floor.